NaruMitsu Week 2018
by L100Meganium
Summary: A collection of my one-shots written for NaruMitsu Week 2018! First is Fairy Tales, second is Habits, third is Confessions, fourth is Family, and last is Dreams/Nightmares. Some oneshots are rated K, while others are rated T.
1. A Different Kind of Magic (Fairy Tales)

**A/N:** Thanks for checking out my one-shots! It was one heck of a busy week when these were written, but I think they turned out okay regardless ;) I'll be posting one every day!

 _Prompt: Fairy Tales_

Notes: I wrote this one in an hour and a half ahaha.

* * *

 **A Different Kind of Magic**

"Whatcha readin'?"

Miles looked up from his reading to see the bright blue eyes of his friend peering at him over the top of the book. Phoenix looked bright and cheerful today. Then again, he nearly always looked bright and cheerful.

"It's… it's nothing," he said hastily, putting the book down flat on his desk and then laying his arms over it. His face heated up.

"Aw, come on, Miles, lemme see!" the other boy pleaded. He was doing that expression where his eyebrows were all drawn up in the middle. Miles could never say no to that expression.

Reluctantly, Miles lifted his arms and showed him the cover of the book. He supposed it wasn't that big of a deal, as Phoenix and he were the only ones left in the classroom after the bell had rung.

" _Grimm's Fairy Tales,_ " Phoenix read off. "Huh. That's not usually the type of thing you read."

"I know," he said, embarrassed. "It was… recommended to me."

The other boy widened those deep blue eyes of his. "By who?"

 _You mean 'whom,'_ Miles thought to himself, but what he said was "Well… Father, actually."

" _Mr. Edgeworth_ recommended you read a bunch of fairy tales?" Phoenix exclaimed, resting his hands on Miles's desk. "That doesn't sound like him at all!"

"What he actually said was ' _You ought to read something meant for children your age, Miles,_ '" he confessed with a sigh. "This was just… the first book I found in the Youth section of the library..." Ordinarily, Miles wouldn't be caught dead in the youth section. He was past such things, thank you very much.

"Hmm," said Phoenix, nodding. "Well?"

Miles blinked at him. "Well what?"

He grinned. "What do you think of the fairy tales?"

"Oh..." Miles frowned down at the little blue book. "They're… unrealistic."

"Well of course they are!" he laughed. "They're _fairy tales._ That's the point."

"No, I mean… I'm not talking about the magic or the fairies," Miles clarified, shaking his head. "I'm talking about… other things." His face prickled with heat again. He hoped Phoenix wouldn't ask any more.

"What do you mean?" he asked, of course, tilting his head. "What kind of other things?"

He sighed, flipping through the pages idly and resting his chin in one hand. "According to this book, people can meet and fall in love immediately, like it's a foregone conclusion they'll be together. They don't have to question it. They just _are._ " He looked up at Phoenix. "That's not how the real world works at all." At least, not as far as Miles knew.

"Hmmm..." Phoenix looked thoughtful, bringing a hand to his chin. "Well, maybe love is a kind of magic in those stories," he suggested. "You said you didn't question the magic, right? So maybe they know they're in love the same way they know they can do magic."

Miles stared. He hadn't thought of it that way before. But Phoenix Wright often had a way of saying things that left him disarmed. "I suppose..."

"Plus, I dunno," the other boy continued, shrugging and tucking his hands into his pockets. "I think sometimes it can work like that. Like, I knew right when you stood up for me that we'd be friends forever!" He smiled, a smile that was warm like sunlight.

"I… I still say they're silly stories," said Miles, averting his eyes. He didn't know what to think about how that smile of his made him feel.

"Maybe you just need to experience them in a different way," Phoenix said.

"What do you mean?"

And then the other boy was tugging him gently out of his seat. "C'mon, I'll show you!"

"Wh—where are we going?" he sputtered, though he let his friend pull him along, grabbing his book-bag from the back of his chair before Phoenix could get him too far.

Phoenix looked over his shoulder at him and grinned. "Someplace we can see magic happen!"

* * *

"Magic happens in your family room?" Miles asked as he took his seat on the pillow Phoenix had laid out for him on the floor.

"Well, not exactly," said Phoenix with a bit of a laugh, pulling up a cushion for himself as well. "It'll happen on the screen." He rose up on his knees to push a video cassette into the VCR, and then flopped back down onto the floor. "Watch closely, Miles," he said, his eyes fixing on the screen reverently.

They sat through the entirety of _Sleeping Beauty—_ all the musical numbers, all the silly dancing woodland creatures, all the plump fairies and the evil queen. Miles looked over at Phoenix occasionally. His face was all lit up, his eyes following the movements on the screen avidly and his mouth twitching into smiles whenever anything good happened. Miles watched the movie as best he could, but really, it was a little difficult when Phoenix kept grabbing his arm to say "Watch this part!" or "Oh, this part's my favorite!" or "Isn't that dragon awesome, Miles?!"

Miles had to admit that the dragon, at least, _was_ pretty awesome. The scene where the prince had fought the villain was definitely the most interesting part of the movie.

But when the prince knelt over and kissed the sleeping Aurora, Phoenix turned to him and grinned, his eyes sparkling, and Miles's heart lurched like he had missed a step going down the stairs. He was glad the family room was not brightly lit—his cheeks felt like they might be blushing. "Wh-What?" he got out. "What's that look for?"

Phoenix nodded at the screen, then looked back at Miles. "See? Magic."

Indeed, the kiss magically solved all the problems in the story. Miles didn't really see how kissing someone while they slept was supposed to prove that you really loved them. Personally, Miles thought that the prince slaying the dragon had been an adequate demonstration of his feelings.

The other boy raised his eyebrows at him eagerly when the credits rolled. "Well?" he prompted. "What did you think?"

"The… the art was good. I liked the dragon," he mumbled weakly.

Phoenix groaned and rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking about the _art,_ Miles. I'm asking if you liked the movie overall."

Miles thought a moment. The movie really hadn't been his cup of tea. He had found the music unnecessary, and some of the characters were clearly only there for comic relief. But when he looked at the smiling face of the boy next to him, remembered his excitement during all the plot developments and how earnestly he had shared this movie with him, all he could blurt out was "I-I had fun."

His blue eyes danced, and he smiled even wider. A smile spread across Miles's face too, before he could even think about it.

"I gotta show you _The Little Mermaid_ sometime," Phoenix said then. Miles sighed.

He wasn't sure why he let Phoenix show him 2 more movies, or how he was able to convince him to call his Father and ask to spend the night.

Maybe some things just couldn't be explained.

Or maybe Phoenix was a kind of magic, too.

* * *

"Remember the first time we watched this?" Phoenix asked him 26 years later, as they sat on their couch. Trucy was sprawled between them, her head having lolled onto her father's shoulder while her legs were across Miles's lap.

Miles snorted. "Yes. It's as silly now as it was then."

"What? I thought you liked it back then!" his husband protested. "You said it was fun!"

"It was fun because you were there," he said plainly, shrugging.

"I don't know whether to be disappointed or flattered," Phoenix muttered, though from the sound of his voice he had settled on " _disappointed._ " He sighed and glanced down at his teenage daughter. "All right, then, Mr. _I'm-Too-Cool-for-Disney-Even-Though-I-Like-Kids'-Shows,_ " he said. "How are we getting out of this arrangement?"

Miles looked down at the legs in his lap. "Hmm," he said. "I'm afraid I can't think of any solutions that don't involve nudging her awake or carrying her off to her room." Trucy had had a long week, performing every night at a theater, and she was uncharacteristically snappish lately if anyone disturbed her slumber.

"I've got an idea," Phoenix said then, his lips twitching into a smile.

"What's—" His question was cut off as his husband leaned over (gingerly enough to not shake Trucy off his shoulder) to pull the back of Miles's head towards him and kiss him softly on the mouth. A light and feathery sensation that Miles was finally able to identify fluttered in his chest. "What was that for?" he asked when Phoenix pulled back to rest his forehead against Miles's.

In answer, Phoenix held a finger to his lips and then pointed down at Trucy, who was stirring and lifting her head off her father's shoulder, rubbing her eyes and groaning.

"Did I fall asleep?" she mumbled, her eyes bleary and only squinted open.

"Yes," Phoenix answered. "Do you need help getting to bed, sweetheart?"

"Don't be silly, Daddy; I can do it myself," she said with a huge yawn, sitting up and stretching before rising from the couch. She waved at the two of them. "G'night, you two. Love you," she murmured before shuffling off.

"Love you too, Truce," Phoenix called after her. And then he turned his eyes to Miles's again, his own dancing the same way they had all those years ago. "See? Magic," he said, and Miles wondered if he was alluding to the first time he'd said that, back when they were children.

Miles rolled his eyes, but smiled back. When he was a young boy, he'd thought that Phoenix himself was magical. But now he knew how to explain it: this magic was the same kind that had woken the princess; the same kind that didn't really accomplish big, grandiose things in real life but instead slowly changed a person from the inside out; the same kind of magic that Phoenix had been inspiring in him for so long.

He pulled his husband close, and kissed him again. When Phoenix responded by wrapping his arms around him and smiling between kisses, Miles thought perhaps Phoenix and the fairy tales had been right all along, even if the real thing still took much longer than in stories...

Love truly was like magic sometimes.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time: Habits!


	2. Force of Habit (Habits)

**A/N:** Written for the prompt "Habits"!

Summary: Phoenix is a little too used to ending phone calls with Trucy with "Okay, I love you, bye!"  
So what happens when he ends a phone call with Edgeworth like that?

Notes: HI I WROTE THIS IN TWO HOURS AND I ACTUALLY LIKE IT (WHAT IS THIS SORCERY)

* * *

 **Force of Habit**

" _Okay, I love you. Bye!"_

It had been an accident, really. A slip of the tongue.

(It didn't mean it wasn't true, but he'd never meant for it to come out like _this.)_

Okay, rewind a bit.

He'd been helping Edgeworth with a case. A case that required many nights up together poring over papers and databases and old case files. But the past few days, Phoenix had been working a case of his own, so they mostly kept in touch on the phone. To be honest, Phoenix wasn't a phone person. He had to use the phone frequently for work, but at least for work he could use his Professional Voice. He could slip comfortably into the role of Phoenix Wright, Attorney at Law. But with Edgeworth? They were colleagues part of the time, friends most of the time. He'd been caught off guard. He was used to only having casual conversations on the phone with Trucy. He'd been walking home from the sandwich place, since he had gone 3 hours without ordering anything and they'd finally said he had to leave. He was glad to get a phone call on the way home, really: it made everything seem less lonely. Streetlights weren't exactly the best company, and Trucy was out late for rehearsal and would be home on a bus in about an hour, so he was only walking home to an empty apartment.

They'd chatted about the case a while, and then slipped into more friendly conversation, like _What's in store for your next day off, Edgeworth?_ and _I don't have days off, Wright,_ and _You're Chief Prosecutor; you can have days off if you want to,_ and _Sadly, I take my role a bit more seriously than that, but if I were to have a day off, I suppose I'd want to see something at the Penrose—there's a new show out,_ and _It's totally the Steel Samurai Live Show Revival, isn't it?_ and _Don't be ridiculous, Wright._

It was easy like this, talking with Edgeworth, indulging in harmless conversation that didn't put either of them at risk. Edgeworth had a way of both putting him on high alert and getting him to relax his guard. It was an interesting and frustrating combination (He felt more aware of everything when they were together—the smell of the steam from the teacup, the way Edgeworth's mouth twitched up on one side when he was suppressing a smile, the way his face smoothed out when he finally let one slip through, the warmth of his shoulder against Phoenix's when they sat together on the couch, side-by-side, the way Phoenix's heart jolted when his gray eyes darted up to fix on his own and then flit away again. On some level he knew it was dangerous to be this conscious of every detail about his good friend, but he always pushed those misgivings back in favor of trying to elicit one more reluctant smile out of the austere Chief Prosecutor. Just one more. Or five).

So really, he could hardly be blamed for slipping up the way he did. Edgeworth had set him at ease. Phoenix was winding down after a long day of investigating. He had just been thinking about calling Trucy to find out when her bus would arrive. Trucy was the only one he usually talked to at this hour.

When Edgeworth had said "All right then. Goodbye for now, Wright," he'd made a terrible mistake.

"Okay, I love you. Bye!" he'd said, and then he'd hung up the phone.

Phoenix stood there, frozen on the sidewalk under one of the streetlamps, staring in horror at the cell phone in his hand.

What had he done?! You couldn't just blurt out a love confession to Miles Edgeworth, Chief Prosecutor, and then hang up! You couldn't blurt out a love confession at all! Especially if there wasn't any love to confess! Especially if—

Oh who was he kidding. There was love to confess. He just had never planned on confessing it.

When the phone vibrated in his hand, he nearly dropped it in surprise, fumbling it between his hands and staring at the name on the screen: _Miles Edgeworth._ Oh god. Edgeworth was going to be so mad. He was going to scold him for saying something so stupid. Or worse, he was going to be infuriatingly snarky about it. Phoenix could hear his light and airy tone now: _Why, Wright, I hadn't realized you cared. Anything else you'd like to get off your chest?_ God.

After a few seconds of staring at the phone going off in his palm, he heaved a great sigh and pressed Talk, and held it to his ear. His face felt hot. His hand was shaking a little. "H-Hey, Edgeworth," he squeaked out.

There was silence on the other end of the line, which was somehow worse than either of Phoenix's two predicted outcomes.

"L-Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he stammered. He wouldn't be able to take it if Edgeworth really got angry with him for something so stupid and careless. "I didn't—"

"Do you mean that?" Edgeworth's voice cut him off, clipped.

Phoenix blinked. "What, that I'm sorry? Of course I do."

"Not that," Edgeworth sighed, and in that tone he could hear the unspoken additional _you idiot._ "What you said before."

The defense attorney couldn't exactly answer that truthfully. He _did_ mean it, but he hadn't meant to _say_ it. He opted to take the lawyer's way out: talk around the problem. "I-It was force of habit," he explained. "I'm used to ending calls with Trucy that way."

"I know it was an accident; I'm not a moron, Wright," said Edgeworth, slowly. "I am not asking why you said it. I am asking if it is true."

God, what in the world was he supposed to say to that? He felt cornered. He could either lie, and pretend everything was fine while regretting not _finally_ getting this out in the open when he had the chance, or he could tell the truth and risk losing everything.

Well, he had been a professional gambler for a while, even if he never bet real money.

"It… may or may not be true," he mumbled. He wasn't sure if it was the heat from the streetlight or just his flushed face making him feel this warm. His heartbeat felt like the bass of some kind of dance song: the rhythm too overpowering, too loud.

"I see," was all Edgeworth said, and Phoenix felt his lungs shriveling up inside his chest.

"S-Sorry," he got out, though the words had emerged a little choked. "I… I shouldn't have—"

"Dinner."

He blinked. "What?"

"Dinner. Would you like to go, sometime? My treat, of course."

Phoenix's mouth dropped open. "Y, uh, y-yeah," he stuttered, sounding so very intelligent he was sure. "Yeah, I'd, uh, I'd like that?"

"Me too," his friend's voice said on the other end, so quietly that it took a second for the defense attorney to figure out what he'd said.

"You'd… like dinner too?" said Phoenix, still incredulous.

"No, not that… well, yes, that, but..." He was being almost as eloquent as Phoenix, here. It was almost a little heartening. "Yes. I'd like dinner. Thursday?"

Phoenix ran through his schedule in his mind. "Thursday's good," he confirmed. "I'll, uh, is 8 all right? To, um… pick you up, I guess?..."

"I'm the one with a car, Wright," Edgeworth reminded him. "I'll be picking _you_ up."

Phoenix awarded himself a prize for Smoothest Move. "Oh. Right."

There was a quiet sound over the line, and it was Phoenix's favorite sound in the world: Edgeworth's quiet chuckle. More heat—not embarrassed this time, but warm and fond _—_ coursed through his entire body, hearing that sound. He found himself smiling back at it. Somehow, his idiotic mistake had led to something… completely unexpected and...nice?

"O-Okay then," he said, not entirely able to keep the relieved laughter out of his voice. "I'll, um, I'll see you then, Edgeworth."

"Miles," the prosecutor corrected him softly. "If… if we're going to do this, you may as well call me Miles."

He felt weak in the knees, suddenly. "Uh, right," he said, his voice cracking a little on the second word. "I look forward to it, Miles." The name sounded strange, foreign and unpracticed but so _good,_ on his lips.

"I as well… _Ph-phmx,"_ his friend said, ending on an odd muffled grumble.

A grin spread across his face as he realized what Miles was trying to do. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" he couldn't resist teasing him a little, now that he knew it was okay.

"I said you'd better not embarrass me at dinner, Wright!" the prosecutor barked.

He laughed. "I'll do my best, but if I mess up, maybe you'll have to try again." And here they were again, slipping back into easy banter. Had it actually been flirting all along, he suddenly wondered? ...Oh, crap. Of _course_ it had.

"Very bold of you to assume I'd want to try again if you mess up," Edgeworth shot back at him.

"Aw, come on. You know you love me," he sang, and then froze up again as he had before. Crap. That was the kind of thing he'd been able to tease him with _before,_ when such statements were harmless and silly, but he couldn't exactly do it _now!_ Not after what he'd just did, not when they were both so tentative about this...

"Oh, shut up," Miles grumbled, but he didn't sound upset, strangely. "Have a good night, Wright." The phone clicked off.

Phoenix realized, as he stared forward at nothing, that Edgeworth hadn't denied his claim.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket and started off walking again, a smile stuck on his face and a bit more of a swagger in his step.

Maybe Miles had been responding to him out of habit just now.

Or maybe he, like Phoenix, had just revealed the truth.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time: Confessions!


	3. Limited Edition (Confessions)

**A/N:**

Summary: Phoenix has a confession to make.

Notes: HI I WROTE THIS AFTER MIDNIGHT AND WENT TO BED AT 2 AM AND WOKE UP AT 7:30 AM TO GO TO WORK AND POST THIS

This is for the NaruMitsu Week theme "Confessions"!

HAPPY NARUMITSU WEEK I'M ONLY SHOUTING TO WAKE MYSELF UP

* * *

 **Limited Edition**

"I… have a confession to make."

The words stopped Miles cold. Wright had dropped by his office completely unannounced, and like the good host he was, Miles had welcomed him inside and asked him to have a seat on the sofa. The defense lawyer had then sat there for a good five minutes, saying nothing, before making this pronouncement.

"A… confession?" He raised his eyebrows, hoping this would prompt further explanation.

The tea he'd had made for the other man steamed on the coffee table, all but forgotten, as he was more interested in staring at the ground than at the teacup. "Yeah." His voice was small, reluctant.

Miles felt apprehension shoot through him, swift and needling. "And… the nature of this confession would be..."

Wright heaved a sigh, and slouched on the sofa. The pose was reminiscent of how he would sit when he sported that awful gray hoodie. "Embarrassing. Compromising."

The prosecutor wasn't sure where this was going, but he was quite certain it was headed into uncomfortable territory. If it were Miles, there was only one confession he could think of that would be embarrassing and compromising. Only one that would leave him looking so reluctant and fidgety and resigned. His heart rate picked up, and his fingers trembled around his teacup. He wasn't ready for that kind of confession. He desperately hoped Wright wasn't going to… no, surely not. He was letting his vanity get the best of him; indulging in wishful thinking.

"Look, Edgeworth..." He looked up when Phoenix Wright spoke again. "I kept this inside for a lot of years. It's… been a source of shame for a long time. But I don't want to be ashamed of it anymore." Miles thought perhaps his heart was trying to jump rope, and had forgotten the rope but had proceeded with the jumping. "We're friends, right? And friends are honest with one another. So… I should tell you if I've kept something bottled up inside," he lifted his gaze, fixed those deep blue eyes on him, and Miles felt his ears warming, "right?"

He swallowed thickly. "Right," he choked out.

Wright took a deep breath. "All right. So… remember back after the Hazakura Temple case?"

Miles's mouth twisted into a grimace. Ah yes, the trial during which they had exorcised a terrifying murderess and simultaneously proven Phoenix Wright's ex-girlfriend innocent. The case for which Miles had rushed over from Europe.

Except he hadn't rushed over for the case, and they both knew it.

"Yes, of course I remember," Miles said, his voice quiet. At the time, Miles couldn't think of any greater expression of his feelings than to accept Wright's badge as he had asked and stand in court for him. So that was what he had done. Whether he had done it to defend Wright's girlfriend was immaterial. She was innocent, he claimed, so Miles had trusted in his judgment. Phoenix Wright's judgment was usually sound, except in matters of common sense.

"Well, afterward, we hung out a while..." Wright tilted his head at him. "Remember that time you, Gumshoe, Maya and I came up here to the office and got a little rowdy with the celebratory drinks?"

Miles scoffed. "I remember _you_ three getting rowdy while I was out checking on something else that evening, and coming back to my office to find it a mess. It was almost impressive, as Miss Fey did not even imbibe."

"Haha, yeah, she doesn't need alcohol to get rowdy," Wright agreed, a smile flashing across his face. "So… you remember what happened, um… later?"

An old memory began to surface, one Miles hadn't let himself think of for a very long time. The two of them on the couch together, leaning close, Wright reaching up to tuck Miles's hair behind his ear, smiling at him and saying _You're incredible, Edgeworth. The best friend I could ask for._ The words had simultaneously damned and saved him. Of course they were friends. It was wonderful to hear that Wright thought of him as such. But at the same time, the way their glances lingered, the immense tension between them, the way Wright's eyes would dart down to Miles's mouth when he talked sometimes… he had thought, quite erroneously, that perhaps Wright might think of them as something… more.

He'd wanted to kiss him, back then. Kiss that stupid, drunken smile right off his face. But it would have been wrong. Wright was vulnerable, and probably was incapable of ever returning Miles's feelings. So he'd merely stared into his eyes, wishing so painfully it was probably written plainly on his face.

"As I recall, not much happened," Miles finally answered Wright's question. "We sat and talked. And then… you went home."

Wright finally picked up the teacup and slurped down half the cup in one gulp—Miles winced a little. "Yeah, um… about that…" He looked even more reluctant now. "I… I ended up coming back after you'd left."

" _What?!"_ Miles barked. "How did you get in?!"

"Gumshoe," the defense attorney shrugged. "He hadn't locked up yet."

"That negligent, happy-go-lucky fool," Miles muttered darkly.

"Hey, hey, reserve your judgment until you hear the whole story, all right?" Wright prompted him, so Miles nodded and motioned for him to continue. "Well, Gumshoe let me in because I'd forgotten something there, and…"

"And what?" Miles wished he'd just come out with it already.

"And that's when something happened. It happened when I was looking over your stuff on that windowsill, thinking about all we'd been through together. It… it was bound to happen, knowing how I am with this sort of thing..." He rubbed the back of his head, flushing.

Miles felt a little flushed, too. "Wright," he breathed. "If you're trying to say what I think you're trying to say..."

"Just, let me get this out," Wright pleaded, looking at him beseechingly. "If I don't tell you know, I may never tell you."

Miles's mouth snapped closed, and he waited. Waited for the next sentence which would either lift him to unseen heights or cast him down into a dark pit.

"Edgeworth," Wright said solemnly. "I was the one who broke it."

The words didn't register, no matter how many times they rang in Miles's head.

"Pardon?"

"Your limited-edition Steel Samurai figurine!" Wright suddenly burst out, looking tortured. "I, I was looking at your stuff, and I was still a little drunk, and I picked up that Samurai and I fumbled him, all right?!"

Miles stared.

"Aw, Edgeworth, please don't give me the cold shoulder for this," Wright whined. "I felt so bad about it. I mean, I was kinda glad you blamed it on Gumshoe, but I also felt bad." His eyes looked so desperate. "I've kept this inside for _years,_ Edgeworth, and I just couldn't hide it anymore!"

There were several reactions all bubbling up inside Miles. The first was anger. How could he, Miles's closest friend, break something precious to him and _not tell him about it?!_ The second reaction was hurt. Miles had been sure that Phoenix—Wright, he meant—had been about to confess to something a tad more… heartfelt. The next emotion fighting for control was relief: he didn't have to deal with what all his feelings for this man meant, not yet. He was safe another day. And the fourth…

Miles burst out laughing. He laughed longer than he could ever remember laughing in front of Wright.

"Oh god, he's cracked from the shock and grief," Wright moaned, holding his head.

"I haven't cracked, you nitwit," he chuckled. "It's just… all these years… you kept the secret of _breaking my Steel Samurai_ to yourself?" He held up a fist to stifle more laughter behind. "Why on earth would you do that?"

He looked flabbergasted. "Because it was so important to you!" he said, defensive. "I thought for sure you'd hate me if it came out I broke that thing!"

"Wright, Wright, Wright," he sighed, the laughter finally dying down. "I ordered a new one immediately. It really wasn't a big deal. Annoying and frustrating, yes. Devastating, no."

Wright looked like he'd been slapped in the face. "S-So… my grief all these years… was for nothing?"

"I wouldn't say it was for nothing," Miles shrugged. "I'm sure someone like you can glean some kind of life lesson from this situation."

"Dammit, Miles, do you know how scared I was to tell you?!" Wright burst out suddenly, standing, and any lingering traces of laughter disappeared from the prosecutor's face at once. "You were _livid_ about that thing being broken. I saw you. You practically turned the same color as your suit. I thought Gumshoe was going to wet himself."

"Oh, don't exaggerate," Miles scoffed, attempting to sound nonchalant, but in his head all he was hearing was a steady repetition of _dammit, Miles, dammit, Miles, dammit, Miles_. His first name… did he even realize he'd used it?

"I-I just..." Wright turned and ran a hand through his spiky hair, frustrated. "I was trying to finally come clean about this, but I guess I've just been an idiot all this time..."

"Wright," he protested, "I appreciate your confession. Obviously, you have my forgiveness. Would you like more tea?"

"Oh, so—so you're just _cool_ with this?!" Phoenix said, whirling to face Miles again. He looked agitated, his face flushing. "I get all worked up trying to say something here, and you just laugh it off and offer me more tea?!"

"It would appear that is about the size of it, yes," Miles confirmed, refusing to let Wright bait him into getting worked up. He knew very well that Wright was only acting this way because he was embarrassed that he'd made such a big deal over something trivial.

"Well, guess what, Edgeworth: I wasn't done with my confessions about that night!" Wright said then, his mouth hardening into a line and his eyebrows sitting down low, a determined expression.

"Oh?" said Miles. "What else is it, now? Are you going to confess that you broke my teacup as well?"

"No," Wright growled, and then he stomped up to the prosecutor's desk, leaned over it to grab Miles's face, and crushed his mouth against the other man's.

Miles drew in a shocked breath through his nose, then let it shudder out of him. He moved his head then, slightly, his lips moving under Wright's, just enough to get across that he was responding in kind. It was a little clumsy, unexpected, a bit aggressive on the defense attorney's part… but it was Wright, so of course it was… perfect.

"I've wanted to do that since that night on the sofa," Phoenix murmured when he drew back, his blue eyes boring into Miles's—they had a ring of brown around the pupils, Miles noticed with surprise. He was still holding the prosecutor's face between his hands. "Going to laugh this one off too?"

"If I do," Miles responded, his voice dropping low. "Will you respond the same way?" He flicked his eyes down to Wright's mouth before meeting the other man's gaze once more.

Phoenix responded by kissing him again, slower, longer, gentler, and this time Miles reached up to hold his hand against Phoenix's as it rested on the prosecutor's cheek. "Miles," Phoenix breathed. "Did you want this too? Please, I… I wouldn't be able to bear it if I'd been thinking about that moment all these years and it had been nothing..."

"It wasn't nothing," Miles assured him. He pulled the back of Phoenix's head towards them, his lips meeting the other man's again. "Why tell me now?" he asked suddenly when they parted.

"I was just tired of lying about a lot of things," Phoenix replied, letting go of the prosecutor and sitting on his desk (Miles made a face, but didn't say anything). "I wasn't really planning on… telling you this particular secret today, but..." He shrugged. "You were making a really smug face, and..." His cheeks were red.

"You always were the impulsive type," Miles said with a smile. Phoenix smiled back. "Can I give you a confession of my own?" He fidgeted in his chair, nervous.

"Of course," Wright responded. "I'll listen to anything you have to say."

Miles decided to go for broke. It was already out there, anyway. That didn't stop his face from blushing furiously as he murmured out his confession, though: "I… wanted that even before that night."

Phoenix's face lit up with a smile so brilliant it looked like he could actually illuminate a room with it. "Miles..." He looked down, seemingly bashful now, too. "So, um, does… does this mean we're…?"

"Yes," Miles answered. "If you wish it."

"Y-Yeah, I wish it," Phoenix responded. He hopped off the desk and rounded to the back of it, leaning over the prosecutor and kissing him again, placing his hands on the armrests of Miles's chair. "One more confession?" he murmured against Miles's lips.

"Go right ahead."

"Gumshoe really did break the Steel Samurai," Phoenix told him. "I just needed an icebreaker."

Miles couldn't decide whether he was outraged or amused, but Phoenix's kisses sort of overrode any other sensation anyway.

Phoenix had really fooled him there. But he didn't much care about an old broken figurine anymore. This was a thousand times more precious, and every time it had broken in the past, they'd both worked hard to repair it.

Miles had to confess: this was so much better than any collector's item he'd ever had.

Phoenix was one-of-a-kind, after all.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time: Family!


	4. Family Portrait (Family)

**A/N:** Oops. Sorry I missed yesterday. I was working on master's program assignments for 8 hours straight prior to this haha...

Summary:  
It's Miles's first time being included in the annual Wright Family photo. He strives for perfection, as usual, but...

Notes:  
[shows up half an hour late with Starbucks] HEY HERE I AM WITH ANOTHER HASTILY THROWN-TOGETHER MINIFIC

This one is for the theme "Family"!

I hope you all enjoyed all my NaruMitsu Week fics! I might still write something late for Dreams/Nightmares, I don't know yet haha.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

 **Family Portrait**

"Would you stop fidgeting? You look fine."

Miles glared at his husband in the mirror. "I am not _fidgeting,_ " he said firmly, tugging on his tie one last time before turning to face Phoenix.

"All right, preening, then," Phoenix revised, his mouth quirking up on one side in that endearing-yet-frustrating teasing expression of his.

Miles just frowned at him. It was all very well and good for Phoenix Wright to make jokes about Miles fussing with his appearance. _He_ looked good without even trying. Even if he had a hair out of place or a slightly-rumpled shirt, it looked intentional—charming in an easygoing and devil-may-care sort of way.

It also wouldn't be Phoenix's first time in a Wright Family Photo, obviously.

The prosecutor told himself again that he had no reason to worry about this. After all, they weren't even having it professionally done. Wright insisted that if they had a professional take their picture, it wouldn't capture the true spirit of their family ("What, you mean the spirit of being a cheapskate?" Miles had snorted. "I resent your implications, but I also can't deny them," Phoenix had answered). Miles had been taught from a young age that if you didn't groom yourself to the point that you wouldn't mind being on camera, you weren't fit to leave the house. An immaculate appearance was second nature to him now. What wasn't second nature was being photographed as part of a happy family.

This time last year, he and Phoenix hadn't even been engaged yet. The family photos had been taken down by the lake, Phoenix and Trucy in a boat on Gourd Lake, both flashing peace signs at the camera. Their grins had been infectious. Miles had hidden his own soft smile behind the camera as he captured the moment.

* * *

"Now scooch on closer to each other! You're a married couple, ain't ya?" their photographer twanged at them, flinging her arm around behind her tripod. Her poofy auburn hair looked like a cross between a dandelion puff and a lion's mane. A dandy-lion, Phoenix might have called it.

His husband squashed himself against his side, tugging Miles against him a little tighter. "This good enough, Lotta?" he asked through his teeth, still baring them in a smile that was starting to more closely resemble a grimace of pain. Miles's face was probably going to be a mixture of embarrassment and discomfort. He consciously attempted to smooth out the furrow he could feel creasing the spot between his eyes.

"Just take a picture already, Ms. Hart," Trucy sighed, her head between them and one arm over each of their shoulders. She was standing behind them while Miles and Phoenix sat on the park bench. "My back's starting to hurt from being leaned over so long..."

"All right, all right," said Lotta. She trailed into a mumble, shaking her poofy head. "Y'all are like a clean dog in front of a mud puddle."

Phoenix shot him a confused glance, which Miles returned. "Huh?"

"Yer impatient!" she rephrased. "Ya can't rush genius, y'know!" Many words could be used to describe Lotta Hart, Miles thought to himself, but _genius_ was not one of them. At least she'd offered to do this for free, Miles supposed.

"All right, 3… 2… 1… say cheese!" Lotta prompted.

They all smiled (or, in Miles's case, twisted their faces into some semblance of happiness), and tried not to blink at the flash that blinded them a split second later.

"Good!" said Lotta. "Just lemme get a couple more, just to be sure..." They grudgingly obliged, remaining frozen in place through 3 more flashes. Miles couldn't see anything through all the spots in his vision now. How was that flash so bright even in full daylight?

By the time Lotta let them all relax, she'd probably taken at least twelve pictures. Miles was reasonably sure Trucy had been giving them both bunny ears in one of them, and Phoenix had yawned during another. On the second-to-last, Trucy had put one hand on both of their heads and Phoenix had pulled a goofy face. Miles could only respond by rolling his eyes, and Lotta yelled at them to "get serious!" which was quite rich from someone who had started their career looking for a lake monster.

"All right, y'all," said the photographer after she was finished torturing them, "get on over here and see which ones ya like best."

As the three of them crowded around the camera, Miles's heart sank. He was wearing the same uncomfortable, mildly-murderous expression in most of these pictures. It was an unfortunate tendency of his. He should have known these pictures wouldn't be any different.

"Papa, you look like you're sitting on a pointy rock," Trucy giggled, flicking through the snapshots.

"You make that face when I get a Steel Samurai quote wrong," Phoenix pointed out, and then looked up at him with something like pity. "Wow, you were _really_ unhappy sitting there, weren't you?"

"No I wasn't!" he protested. "I'm just… well… uncertain."

Both Wrights looked askance at him.

He sighed, staring at his own pained visage on the camera's screen. "I wanted so badly for this picture to turn out perfect. To fit right into your tradition. To… to be part of this family." His words had trailed off into almost nothing, and he felt his cheeks heat as he stared at his polished shoes.

"Miles..." Phoenix's voice was soft. When Miles met his eyes, they were filled with concern.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Miles groaned. "I'm well aware it's a stupid thing to be worried about, so there's no need to be so troubled over it."

Strangely, a smile spread slowly across his face. "Let me show you something, Miles." He yelled over his shoulder: "Send us a couple prints of each, Lotta! Thanks again for doing this!"

"Sure thing!" she responded. "Just be sure to tell everyone who took yer photos if anyone asks, y'hear?"

"Of course." He turned back to Miles. "Come on. We're going to take a little trip down memory lane."

* * *

Miles was a little confused when Phoenix dropped a photo album on Miles's lap when they'd returned home.

"Why are you giving me this?"

"Just look through it, all right?" Phoenix said mysteriously, sitting down next to him and motioning for him to open the album.

"Ooh, this is the one with all our annual family photos, right?" Trucy chirped, wedging herself onto the sofa as well between Miles and his husband.

"Sure is," Phoenix nodded.

The prosecutor opened the book. The first one showed a shabbily-dressed man and a tiny girl in a red magician's outfit. They were both grinning broadly as they sat at the piano together.

The next one showed Phoenix and Trucy at a noodle stand, Trucy flashing a V for Victory and Wright slurping his noodles.

A few pages later, there was Phoenix displaying his newly-reclaimed badge. Trucy clung to his arm, looking as vibrant and happy as her father as they stood on the courthouse steps.

"I don't really see why you felt I had to see these photos again now," Miles admitted.

"Miles," said Phoenix with a sigh, "Did you forget who _took_ these photos?"

"I did," he answered, "but I don't see how that's relevant." Indeed, Wright had requested that he take each of these pictures. It was a strange yearly request, but it was one he had granted, because for quite a while there, it was one of the few occasions he could see Wright's smile.

"Yeah, _you_ did," Phoenix said. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, pulling both Miles and Trucy closer to him. "Don't you get it, Miles? You were _always_ part of this family."

The Chief Prosecutor's mouth fell open. "I… what?"

The expression on his husband's face was half-exasperated, half-adoring. "Didn't you ever read the captions?"

Miles's eyes dropped down to the pages in his lap again.

 _Edgeworth took this one right after my return to the courtroom!_ said the scrawled words under the last photo he'd looked at. _It wouldn't have happened without him, so I wanted to get a picture with him, too, but he said the sun would get in his eyes._

Curiously, he flipped back to the earlier photos again.

 _First photo of both Wrights,_ the first caption read. _Guess we'll be seeing a lot more of that piano and a lot less of Edgeworth since he's been so busy, but at least he took the time to snap this photo._

 _Edgeworth refused to have a picture taken with us at the noodle stand. He said it would be "undignified." Personally, I think being undignified tastes delicious._

He traced over the sloppy handwriting with his fingertips, remembering each picture he'd taken and the companionship he'd shared during all those moments. Even during years Phoenix hadn't wanted to remember, he had taken the time every year to document their relationship and preserve it.

His fingers started to shake, and Phoenix put his hand over Miles's. "You're in every single one of these family photos, Miles," he whispered. "You're just on the other side of the camera."

"That's why Daddy's smiling so much in all of them!" Trucy piped up, leaning against Miles's shoulder.

"You know, you really do have a knack for perfectly capturing the spirit of this family," Phoenix remarked, chuckling a little at a photo where both Wrights were sticking out their tongues at the camera.

Miles didn't say anything. He just smiled down at the pictures, remembering.

* * *

When they added this year's photo to the album, it portrayed both men with their daughter's hands on their heads. The defense attorney had his mouth scrunched up on one side and his eyes bugged out in surprise, and the prosecutor was rolling his eyes dramatically as he blew his bangs out of his face. They all agreed it was the perfect representation of their family. Miles was sure it was the first time he'd ever been captured on film doing something so unrefined.

It was Miles's favorite photograph of himself.

 _Finally got him on this side of the camera!_ the caption said. _I think he looks much better here next to us._

Miles had to agree.

* * *

 **A/N:** Next time: Dreams/Nightmares!


	5. The Stuff of Dreams (Dreams, Nightmares)

**A/N:** Sorry I'm posting this late! I've been thinking of not publishing my Ace Attorney fics over here on this site anymore. Ao3 is simply better in every regard, and, well, this site just doesn't bring in enough feedback. Thank you so much to everyone who has read my stories here, though. I love each and every one of you, even if we've never spoken!

This one was written for the "Dreams/Nightmares" prompt!

Summary: When Phoenix wakes from his third dream about making out with Edgeworth, he figures it's finally time to admit he has a problem.

Notes:

WOW I'M LATE BUT OH WELL This is my exceedingly belated entry for the NaruMitsu Week prompt "Dreams/Nightmares." Somehow it grew into 12 pages. I hope that somewhat makes up for it being so late. I wrote 3 and a half pages of this in Driver's Ed on Monday and then the rest in the last 4 hours! I'M SO TIRED! :D

* * *

 **The Stuff of Dreams**

" _Do you know how long I've waited for this?" the other man purred, trailing his fingers up Phoenix's arm. "How long I've_ wanted _this?"_

" _No," Phoenix admitted breathlessly, goosebumps rising wherever he touched. "How long?"_

 _He pressed his lips under Phoenix's jaw and lightly sucked, making Phoenix's mouth fall open in a surprised gasp. "Since I first laid eyes on you in a courtroom," Miles growled, and finally met his mouth in a possessive kiss._

Phoenix bolted up in bed, turned on beyond belief and impossibly frustrated that this was the third time he'd woken from such a dream this week. His heart was still racing a little. He could still feel where Edgeworth's mouth had been on his throat—it was still tingling with residual, imaginary heat. He groaned, and sank his forehead into his hands. Maybe it was finally time to admit to himself that he maybe had some hangups about his childhood friend.

He grabbed the clock on the bedside table, reading the glowing numbers 3:37. It was still the middle of the night. His still-skipping heart sank in his chest. If it was closer to morning, he could just get up and start the day early, but at this hour, he really should try to go back to sleep. But what if he had another dream?

Phoenix wasn't sure which was worse: that he kept having these dreams, or that he more-than-half-wanted to fall asleep again so he could maybe see what would happen next if he let it.

Resigned, he reached for his cell phone and dialed the one person he knew he could talk to at this time of night.

"Nick?" Her voice was groggy. "What the heck're you calling me for at 3:30 in the morning? What happened?"

"Maya, I'm at a loss here," he confessed, voice a little rough from sleep. He massaged his forehead. "I… I keep having these, um… these dreams." He stopped here, because now that he was waking up a bit more, he was starting to realize how incredibly embarrassing it would be to tell Maya about the dreams' subject matter.

A pause as she waited for him to continue, and as Phoenix did not continue. "Dreams?" she finally repeated, in a tone that indicated that she'd really rather be having some of those right now. "What dreams?"

He bit his lip. "Promise you won't laugh."

"Oh, Nick," she said with a tired yet affectionate sigh. "You _know_ I can't promise that."

"Ugh," he groaned. He was kind of desperate here, though, so he forged on despite the possibility of mockery. "Fine. I…" A deep breath. A whoosh of air as it was released. And then finally, he revealed his shameful secret. "I keep having dreams about Edgeworth and me making out, okay?!" he hissed, cupping his hand around his mouth and the phone as if anyone else could hear him.

"Duh," she said immediately. "Don't tell me this surprises you."

Phoenix blinked into the darkness for a long moment. "Pardon?" he squeaked at last.

"Oh my god, Nick," she sighed in a tortured sort of voice. "If you were any more gone for Edgeworth I'd have to throw a farewell party."

"What?"

"If you mooned over him any harder you'd be the cow that jumps over it. If your head was any further over your heels you'd be seeing the world upside-down. If you were any more gaga you'd be an actual ba—"

"All right, I get it, I get it!" he cut her off irritably. "Geez!" His face burned with embarrassment. He hadn't known he was so obvious. After all, he'd only really started to become aware of his feelings during the case defending Iris a week ago. "S-So… you're not surprised that I… have feelings for him?" His voice had trailed off into a tiny mumble as he worried at a loose thread in his comforter.

"I'm pretty sure I stopped being surprised about it like 2 years ago, when you explained _why you became a lawyer?_ Come on, Nick; get real." Was she always this cranky when she got woken up, Phoenix wondered?

"Well gosh, sorry to burden you with my delayed realizations!" Phoenix blustered loudly, but then sank back into his reluctant tone again. "S-So… what should I do?"

"Easy," said his friend with a yawn. "Make out with him for real. Okay? Okay. 'Night, Nick."

"W-Wait!" the defense attorney squawked. "I'm serious, Maya! I don't know what to do about this! Please…" He rested his forehead against his bent knees. "I need help..."

She heaved another sigh, but when she spoke again, she sounded a little more alert. "This is really bothering you, huh?"

"Of course it is!" he said at once. "He's my best friend!"

"Hey!" she protested.

"Oldest friend," he revised. "You know you're important to me, Maya."

"Hehe, I know, ya goof," she said fondly. "All right, here's the deal: Call Edgeworth in the morning. Ask him out. Done!"

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"B-Because he's busy!"

"Weak," she remarked. "Try again. Why?"

"Because..." His eyebrows drew together. "Because I don't think he has feelings for me. I don't think he's interested in that kind of thing. If-If I screwed up this relationship with a stupid crush, I'd..." He couldn't finish the sentence, because he honestly didn't know _what_ he'd do.

"I didn't say confess your love to him," Maya pointed out, and Phoenix's eyes widened. _Love?_ "I said 'ask him out.' Can't two bros go out for lunch?"

"I don't think Edgeworth would appreciate being called a 'bro,'" he predicted, "but I see your point. All right, I'll… give it a try, I guess."

"Good," she said. "Can I sleep now? I was having a dream about swimming in a giant bowl of ramen and I think I can almost still taste it."

"Yes," he answered. "Thank you, Maya. And sorry for waking you."

"Nahhh, don't be. What are friends for?" Good ol' Maya.

"Good night, then," said Phoenix, smiling a little.

"'Night, Nick," she replied with a bit of a smile in her voice too, and then there was a _click,_ and Phoenix was alone in the blackness once more.

* * *

His heart hammered as he waited for Edgeworth to pick up.

"Wright?" said that smooth voice at last, and oh, _god,_ the last time he'd heard his voice it had been whispering seductive things into the skin at his throat and—

"H-Hey, buddy," he forced out, and then cleared his throat, because the words had emerged as an incredibly embarrassing cracked squeak.

" _Buddy?_ " Edgeworth echoed, and Phoenix almost laughed at how disdainful he sounded. "You sound like Larry."

"Ouch," said Phoenix mildly.

"Well, _old chum,_ to what do I owe the pleasure of this interruption?" Despite his slightly sardonic words, Phoenix could hear the amiability in the prosecutor's tone, and it made his chest feel a little lighter. At least his no-nonsense friend hadn't gotten annoyed yet.

"Um, well," he said haltingly, pacing his tiny living room. "I-I was wondering if you, uh… wanted to grab lunch today?"

A brief silence followed. "Wright, I'm in Europe," the other man finally said. "Did you want to pop over to France for eclairs?" He snorted. "Don't tell me you forgot I was here."

"O-Of course I didn't!" he assured him. He had, though. "That's, uh, that's why I said 'grab lunch later'!" _Nice save, Phoenix!_ he thought.

"No, you said ' _grab lunch today,_ '" Edgeworth volleyed back easily. As usual, he had the ability to see through Phoenix's bluffs.

"I misspoke," said Phoenix, because if one bluff didn't work, two would for sure, right?

"Hmm," Edgeworth hummed, sounding as if he didn't really care either way. "Well, nevertheless, I'm afraid I'm unable to accept your invitation."

"Right," Phoenix replied. His heart sank, despite knowing that there was no way they could have arranged something anyway. It was stupid, to feel a sting of rejection over something like this. What did he expect, for Edgeworth to hop a plane and rush right over just to have lunch? "Sorry to bother you while you're abroad."

"I don't ever recall saying you were bothering me," Edgeworth's smooth voice commented.

Did that mean he didn't mind Phoenix calling him? His heart lifted a little. "Oh," he said. "W-Well, in that case, do you wanna maybe… talk?" He cringed, screwing his eyes shut. Why did just suggesting a conversation suddenly seem so hard?

"That is what people typically do during phone calls," said the prosecutor dryly, "but then, we're hardly typical."

They were innocent words, meant to convey a sense of camaraderie or possibly self-deprecation, but to Phoenix they seemed to allude to all the ways their relationship was no longer merely that of a typical friendship. "Y-Yeah, you could say that," he mumbled.

He must have sounded sad or something, because the next thing Edgeworth said was "Are you all right, Wright? You sound demoralized. It's quite out-of-character."

"What, you're expressing concern for me, and you're saying _I'm_ acting out-of-character?" he fired back without thinking about it, and then found himself smiling at how easy it had been to say. His feelings for Edgeworth might be all mixed-up and confusing now, but at least their verbal back-and-forth hadn't changed. It made him feel a little braver, somehow.

"Dodging the question, I see," Edgeworth said.

Phoenix actually laughed this time. "I… something happened earlier that kinda rattled me. But I think I feel better now. I'm glad I called."

"I'm… I'm glad, too," replied the prosecutor softly.

His heart rate picked up again. "You are?"

"Why shouldn't I be pleased to hear from a friend?" he said, sounding a bit defensive.

The grin on his face stretched even wider. "Hey, um… when are you getting back to the States?"

"In a week," he answered. "Why?"

"Well, I was thinking..." There was a thudding in his chest, but Phoenix ignored it and made the leap: "Maybe we could go out for lunch when you get back?"

"I don't see why not," said Edgeworth at once. "Where shall we go?"

That had been easier than expected. "Um…" Unfortunately, he hadn't planned this far ahead. He felt at a loss for how to proceed now. "I-I don't know yet..."

"Flawless foresight as usual, Wright," the prosecutor teased.

"Well I didn't think you'd say yes!" he blurted, and then snapped his mouth shut. _Crap. That wording totally makes it sound like I was all nervous about asking him out. Not that I wasn't, I guess…_ "I-I mean, you're always so busy; I didn't know if you'd be able to make time for it," he tried.

Edgeworth didn't say anything for a moment, but before Phoenix could start to worry, the other man was quietly murmuring: "I… will always make time for you."

Phoenix's heart performed a drum solo. "I, uh, that's—th-thanks," he stammered eloquently. His knees felt a little weak, suddenly, so he sank onto the couch.

"Think nothing of it," Edgeworth said smoothly, which was silly advice, because Phoenix thought _everything_ of it. "After all you have done for me, I at least owe you a decent lunch. I'll decide on the establishment; that way the pressure is off you."

"Now hold on a minute," Phoenix protested, sitting up straighter, " _I'm_ the one who asked _you!_ So it's supposed to be _my_ treat!"

"While I appreciate the gesture, I think we would both enjoy the meal more if it was something worth eating. I suspect that I do not share your favored eateries, but I do not wish to impose on your wallet. Thus, it makes perfect sense to leave the decision of where to eat up to me," he rattled off effortlessly.

"I'm impressed with both your logic and your ability to subtly insult me as usual," Phoenix grumbled, slumping over and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Ah," said Edgeworth. "I… I apologize. I hadn't meant it to be an insult."

"Well what _did_ you mean it to be?" He couldn't find any other interpretation besides _Tsk, tsk tsk. You probably can't afford me, Mr. Wright._

"A-A gesture of my regard," he answered, and Phoenix's eyebrows shot up at that. "I… really do feel as though I ought to treat you, and, well, I know a fair number of nice places." He actually sounded… flustered? "I meant no disrespect. I only wanted to, er…" He trailed off awkwardly.

He should probably try to rescue the poor guy here. "Spoil me?" he quipped. He was starting to inch dangerously close to _flirting_ territory, but he had often found that cracking a joke helped to break the tension.

"I suppose that's one way to look at it," he agreed, turning things around on Phoenix and throwing him for a loop in his typical fashion.

Phoenix flapped his jaw a couple times. "W-Wow," he said. "That's, uh… very gentlemanly of you." He'd meant it to be a teasing sort of statement, but it had come out all bashful and sincere. Man, he was on a roll, here. A roll downhill and backwards.

"You flatter me," Edgeworth responded flatly, sounding distinctly unflattered.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Psh. Flattery? Never. Don't you know by now that I only tell the truth, Edgeworth?"

"Yes, I suppose I do, at that," said the prosecutor, his voice all warm and genuine. Phoenix felt a melting sensation in his chest. "Well, I've got to get going, but again, I'm glad to hear from you. I'll see you on the 12th, I suppose?"

"Uh, y-yeah!" Phoenix responded. "Um, I guess let me know about what place you decide on. I'll, uh… be around." A slightly-nauseous sensation of anticipation and nervousness roiled in his stomach, but he found that he was also kind of reluctant to stop talking to his friend right now.

"Aren't you always," he said. "I'll let you know. And, Wright?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"You're… you're welcome to call again anytime," the prosecutor assured him. "Within reason, of course. I do have work to do."

A smile so wide it almost kind of hurt broke across his face. "A-All right," he replied, not being able to keep the soft wonder out of his voice. "Thanks, Edgeworth. And see you on the 12th."

"It's a date," Edgeworth said, and hung up.

Phoenix was left staring at his phone, replaying those last three words Edgeworth had said over and over in his head.

Crap, it really _was,_ wasn't it?

* * *

A week later, and Phoenix still didn't really know what to expect here.

He'd decided on wearing the blue suit, because it was always the blue suit and it'd look really weird if he showed up in anything else, right? Maybe Edgeworth wouldn't even be able to find him if he didn't wear the blue suit.

Nah, that was silly. He still had his hair, after all.

He fidgeted in his seat, looking around at the surroundings. Edgeworth had selected a classy place, of course. It was French, Phoenix was pretty sure, but honestly he was too preoccupied with who he'd be dining with to worry about what they'd be dining _on._ Edgeworth still wasn't here… was he going to stand him up? No, surely not; he'd never do that… but what if something had happened?...

The waiters and waitresses kept looking at him weird, and each time he met their eyes Phoenix died a little inside. _I really am waiting for someone!_ he wanted to shout. _I swear I'm not delusional!_

Just when he was about to flag down a waitress and request a cup of water because his mouth was feeling very dry, he caught a glimpse of a red suit over the partition between the dining area and the entrance. His heart lurched like he was looking down from a very high ladder.

He looked the same as usual, prim and proper and polished, as he exchanged a few words with the hostess lady. But now that Phoenix knew exactly what his feelings were for the prosecutor, it was like he was suddenly glowing, like a soft light was shining down over his head. It was both startling and ridiculous.

Phoenix tried to remember how to form words as Edgeworth made his way over to the table. What was he even supposed to say? _I missed you? Glad you're here? Thank god; I think they were starting to think I was crazy?_

"You look nice," was what he blurted instead, and then his sense of dignity promptly curled up into a ball and died a miserable, agonized death.

Edgeworth looked surprised, glancing down at his usual outfit and raising his eyebrows. "I suppose you're being facetious?" He sat down in his chair and laced his hands together. "I've just been on a 12-hour flight; I know very well that I don't look as put-together as usual."

The defense attorney wanted to burst into hysterical laughter. Here he was, looking so amazing Phoenix was certain it was actually going to be detrimental to his health, and yet when Phoenix had paid Edgeworth a sincere, spontaneous compliment, the prosecutor had interpreted it as Phoenix trying to make a joke. He didn't know if it was lucky for him, or disappointing. Should he attempt to reinforce the compliment, or let it go? "You look more put-together than _I've_ ever been," he tried, aiming for somewhere in the middle.

Edgeworth eyed him over the top of his menu, which he'd opened to look over. "Thank you…?" he said, uncertainly. Phoenix was somewhat surprised he hadn't taken the opportunity to say _That's not a very high bar to have to leap._ "Am I supposed to compliment you as well?" Edgeworth said then with a bit of a snort as he returned his attention to the menu.

"It would be nice, but don't strain yourself," he joked.

The prosecutor gave him a look that was half-amused and half-baffled. "I… I'm not good at this sort of thing," he admitted, which, _no duh,_ Phoenix knew that already. "Er…" Phoenix watched him with interest as his face scrunched up in thought. "I...I'm impressed that you found the place without further direction?..."

Phoenix actually _did_ burst out laughing now, probably startling the other fancy restaurant people. "You… Of all the things you could say, you're complimenting my _sense of direction?!_ " He chuckled a little more, shaking his head and delighting in the flush that was spreading across Edgeworth's face.

"I-I told you I'm no good at this!" the other man blustered. "I mean, what else am I supposed to say? _'Blue continues to complement you marvelously'_? That wouldn't be anything different!" And then his mouth shut abruptly and his eyes widened a little and he fell silent.

Phoenix stared back, his eyes a little wide, too. "I… I think it's pretty different," he said, amazed.

"No it's not," Edgeworth deflected quickly, eyes moving over his menu rapidly. "That's what you always wear."

"Not my suit," said Phoenix. "The fact that you have anything to say about it."

"I'm not used to throwing out compliments!" he hissed, dropping the menu again and leaning over the table a little.

"Maybe you should try more often, because I think you'd be pretty good at it," Phoenix challenged.

"I thought you claimed to never resort to flattery?" he retorted.

They stared at each other a moment silently, and then a smile spread across their faces simultaneously. "I'm glad you're back," Phoenix let himself say.

"As am I," he responded, his smile lingering, and Phoenix's chest felt as light as if it was filled with helium.

Their conversation had been easy, full of gentle teasing and reminiscences on the old days back in school and discussion of what Edgeworth had been doing overseas.

"You'll have to take me along sometime," Phoenix had joked when they'd talked about Europe.

"I'd be delighted to," the prosecutor had replied, making Phoenix's heart do a balloon impression again.

By the end of the meal, Phoenix was starting to think that his impossible little flights of fancy might not be entirely outside the realm of possibility after all.

So he could really only blame it on his own newfound sense of hope and security when he actually answered honestly to Edgeworth's question: "So, what made you decide to call me out of the blue, anyway?"

"Oh, I had a few dreams about you, and I guess it made me kinda miss you," Phoenix responded, casually pushing around the crumbs on his plate with his fork.

And then he froze up like he'd just come face-to-face with Medusa.

Shit. _Shit._ No matter how you spun it, admitting to having dreams about someone and then calling them because you missed them just sounded really, _really_ sappy. Edgeworth was going to look at him with disdainful eyes. He was going to laugh and say _In your dreams, Wright, quite literally._ He was going to storm out of this place and not talk to him for weeks.

But when he forced himself to drag his eyes up to meet the prosecutor's, Edgeworth was gaping at him, his face pink and his eyes wide. God. He was so utterly thrown off that he was speechless. Great. Way to go, Phoenix.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled, his face burning with shame. "I'm, uh. That's… really weird, I know. I didn't mean to…" His mouth twisted into a grimace. "Sorry." He got to his feet. He'd imposed his stupid feelings on him, now. Edgeworth had been expecting a nice lunch with a good friend, and had instead gotten an unbelievably awkward confession. Phoenix laid his napkin on the table, regret and humiliation roiling in his belly. "I'll pay my half," he promised, struggling to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Edgeworth's hand shot out to cover his, suddenly. Phoenix's eyes shot up to meet Edgeworth's, and the expression he saw in the prosecutor's wide gray eyes was not revulsion or horror or even embarrassment. It was something more like…

Wonder?

"E-Edgeworth?" he stammered, flitting his eyes down to the hand laying over top his own before looking back up at his face.

"Don't leave," Edgeworth breathed. "Please."

Phoenix sat back down immediately, responding almost unconsciously to the earnestness in that quiet request. "O-Okay," he choked out. "I'm here."

The prosecutor's fingers wrapped around Phoenix's, but his gaze was focused on their hands rather than Phoenix's face. "Wright… tell me plainly… is this a date?"

Phoenix's fingers twitched within Edgeworth's, but after a moment's hesitation, he turned his hand over to clasp his hand in return. "Yeah, it is," he admitted. "Is… that okay?..."

He chanced a glance upward, and was rewarded with the sight of a soft smile lighting up the other man's face. "It is," he replied.

His heart was now trying to perform the entire William Tell Overture. "S-So… then… you don't mind, uh… that I…" Oh god, if he tried any harder to force out the words he'd end up biting his tongue or something. He swallowed, and then took a deep breath. "I have feelings for you," he tried again, his voice emerging sort of embarrassingly shaky. "I didn't realize until recently, but… there it is. Um… and you..." His ability to speak failed him again, and he bit his lip.

"...have always hoped that we might someday be headed in this direction," Edgeworth finished for him. "I didn't dare to ever voice my hope."

His eyes met the prosecutor's again. "Really?!" How long did he mean by _always,_ Phoenix suddenly wondered?

Edgeworth's smile became a little teasing, now, though it still looked mostly fond. It was the most beautiful facial expression Phoenix had ever seen on a human being. "Really," he repeated. "I thought for sure you would… not be interested."

"Um, well, I am," he announced awkwardly, and then covered his blushing face with his free hand. "I-I'm… you'll have to be patient with me; I'm going to be really bad at this..."

Edgeworth brought his other hand to cradle under Phoenix's. "I am willing to be patient. You… are worth waiting for."

Phoenix's face felt like it was boiling, and his heart felt like it was trying to punch its way out of his ribcage, but he attempted a chuckle. "G-Geez, do you talk to all the guys like this?"

This was unsuccessful, as Edgeworth merely looked at him in mild confusion. "No," he answered. "Only you, of course."

He was about ready to faint out of his chair. This felt like another dream, only it was a lot more innocent and sweet than the dreams he'd had before. Edgeworth was openly talking about his feelings. About _him._ _To_ him. "I'm, I mean, it's the s-same for me," he stuttered. The least he could do to respond to such honesty was offering his own feelings on the matter. "Only you," he repeated, staring at the tablecloth.

Edgeworth's thumbs were stroking against his wrist and the tops of his knuckles, and the contact sent a shiver of static sensation up through Phoenix's arm. Looking at his face, Phoenix felt the sudden and desperate desire to reenact all his dreams. They would feel so much better with the knowledge that Edgeworth had feelings for him too, could actually hold his hand, was here in front of him, warm and open and _real…_

"I… I want to kiss you," he found himself blurting out. "Is that all right?"

The prosecutor looked almost amused. "It is very much all right," he said, "but I would prefer that it be in private."

"I-I know that!" Phoenix said, his face aglow. As if he would try to kiss him right here in the restaurant! Though he had to admit that it was somewhat tempting. "That's what I meant! I was… giving you a heads-up!"

"That's very gentlemanly of you," Edgeworth teased him, and god, was he going to be like _this_ the whole time now? Phoenix wasn't sure his heart could take it.

But he was pretty sure being with Edgeworth would be worth a few heart attacks anyway.

* * *

A few hours later, after a walk around the block, in front of Phoenix's apartment building, their lips finally met for the first time. It was a little uncoordinated. Edgeworth had been turning around after saying good-bye, and Phoenix had grabbed him by the shoulders, screwed his eyes shut, turned the other man back around to face him, and planted his mouth slightly above Edgeworth's upper lip. It would have been intensely embarrassing, except that Edgeworth reacted by chuckling low in his throat, pulling Phoenix closer, and starting them off again, this time with proper aim.

It was like having an entire conversation. Phoenix's lips were unsure, questioning, while Edgeworth's were reassuring, accepting. When Phoenix tentatively moved his head to the side and pressed his tongue to the seam of the other man's lips, Edgeworth made a sound of approval and guided the movement with a hand on Phoenix's cheek, opening up and allowing their tongues to brush one another. It was like touching an electric fence—currents were coursing through Phoenix's entire body, making him shudder. His knees felt weak, as if a single push could send him toppling to the ground. His heart surged in his chest, and when he placed a hand against the side of the other man's neck to push his hand up into his soft, slate-gray hair, he could feel Edgeworth's pulse racing, too. Every touch of their lips felt simultaneously like the beginning of something beautiful and yet also like a conclusion, like returning home after a very long day. All that was echoing in his head was an endless chant of _Finally, Finally, Finally._ He should have realized what he felt years ago. He should have done _this_ years ago. How long could he have had this? How long had they both been holding themselves back?

How long had they been making out without taking in any air?

Phoenix pulled away at last, gasping for breath, and rested his forehead against Edgeworth's. The prosecutor was smiling, and he brought a hand up to hold the side of Phoenix's face, and the gesture was so tender that Phoenix felt his heart melt all over again. "I think that's been a long time coming," Phoenix breathed.

"Mm," the other man agreed, and Phoenix moved his head to the side to rest his forehead on Edgeworth's shoulder, his arms coming up to encircle him and just hold on. "I suspect you have no idea how long I've waited for this. How long I've wanted this," the prosecutor murmured then, holding the back of Phoenix's head against his shoulder with one hand.

Phoenix froze, and then withdrew his head to look at Edgeworth in amazement. He stared wordlessly.

"What's wrong?" Edgeworth asked, a flicker of worry in his eyes. "Have I said something strange?"

The defense attorney could only cover his mouth as he stifled laughter. "N-No."

Edgeworth did not look ready to laugh. "I'm glad this is amusing to you," he said, and Phoenix heard the beginnings of defensiveness there.

"No, it's just..." He took a deep breath, and smiled at his friend (except he was more than that now, wasn't he?). "That's what you said last week, too."

Edgeworth responded by blinking at him in bafflement. "I'm quite certain I said nothing of the sort."

Phoenix's grin widened, and he leaned in to press another kiss to his mouth. "I mean, in my dream," he confessed in a whisper, brushing their noses together before drawing back again.

The wary look smoothed out into one of relief, and a glint came into his gray eyes. "Oh?" he said. "You will have to tell me more of these dreams of yours sometime."

"Maybe after our next date," Phoenix said with a wink.

Edgeworth frowned at him, looking a little disappointed, and Phoenix laughed and drew him in to kiss him again.

As unlikely as it had seemed a week ago, Miles Edgeworth was in his arms now, holding him and kissing him and returning his feelings (returning his love, he wondered briefly?). Rather than sultry and sensual, scorching and dangerous, these kisses were tender and gentle, warm and reassuring. They were more than anything Phoenix could have dared to imagine.

Dreams may not always come true, Phoenix thought. But as Edgeworth bent down to kiss against his jaw and Phoenix let a gasp escape and clutched onto the prosecutor's elbows; as Phoenix tried circling Edgeworth's hips with his arms and tugging him against him to a muffled noise of approval from the other man; as they both found out just what they'd been missing the past two years or so…

Phoenix thought that maybe reality was a whole lot better than dreams.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again, everybody! Hope you enjoyed my contributions to NaruMitsu Week 2018!


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